


What Is Ours

by lilgulie5



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Mild Smut, Pregnancy, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 14:45:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18780397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilgulie5/pseuds/lilgulie5
Summary: The Long Night is over, but the rift that formed between Jon and Daenerys has not yet been mended. It should be a moment of joy and triumph, yet Dany has never felt more alone in the North than she does now. An alternate "fix-it" ending for the scene in which she seeks him out after the feast in 8x04. Fluff and light smut.





	What Is Ours

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am again with another "fix-it" scene for season 8. I was really hoping we wouldn't need too many of these, but...alas. Here is the scene we should've had with a reference to CastleSex as well! I hope you enjoy it!

“What kind of a person rides a dragon?”

 

 _I do_ , she wanted to scream. _I have. I came on my dragon to save you._

 

Instead, Dany remained silent. She was not upset with Jon, could not be upset with Jon, but these people...They were the ones she had fought for, the ones she had sacrificed for, the ones she had lost Jorah for. Perhaps they would never be her people, at least not in their hearts.

 

Though her cup was still almost full, her head spun, her body was tired, her heart ached and so she quietly excused herself. Much later, when it was apparent that the feast was nearly finished, she sought him out. Her hand trembled on the door to his chambers as she pushed it open and found him seated on the bed.

 

“Are you drunk?” she asked. It seemed like everyone had been when she left the Great Hall. She could not speak to him about this if he was.

 

“No,” he replied as he stood from the bed and staggered a bit. He righted himself and offered her a lopsided smile. “Only a little.”

 

 _Always honest_ , she thought and closed the door behind her.

 

“I didn’t know Ser Jorah well, but I know this. If he could’ve chosen a way to die, it would’ve been protecting you.”

 

“He loved me,” she explained, closing the distance between them. “And I couldn’t love him back. Not the way he wanted. Not the way I love you.”

 

Jon’s arm slid around her waist and pulled her against him. It felt good, it felt _right_ to be so close to him and to have him want her there.

 

“Is that alright?”

 

His answer came in the form of a kiss, soft and gentle at first, but soon his tongue was begging for entrance to her mouth and she could not refuse him. Jon deepened the kiss and held her face in his hands, devouring her like a man starved in the wilderness. In unison he began to paw at the neck of her gown as she started to work the leather of his belt until she suddenly pulled away. Pleasing as it was, it was not why she had come to him.  

 

“But he wasn’t just protecting me,” she said after taking a breath. Her hands slid up to his chest as her eyes met his. In the dimly lit room, in the shifting shadows that the firelight threw across his face, his grey eyes looked almost black. “He was protecting us.”

 

“Us?”

 

“Jon, when I came to you that night in the crypts, I came because there was something I wanted to tell you. I _needed_ to tell you before we went into battle. I...I’m with child.”

 

His arms tightened around her, but his brow furrowed in confusion.

 

“With child?” he asked as if his mouth did not know how to form the words. “How?”

 

“I haven’t bled in four moons. I didn’t want to believe it. I couldn’t bring myself to believe it was true. I’ve been brushing off and making excuses for every symptom, but I can’t anymore. I don’t know how to explain it.”

 

“Our child…”

 

“Are you angry with me?”

 

“Angry with you? Why would you think such a thing?”

 

“Because I told you it wasn’t possible. Because I didn’t think it was.”

 

Jon shook his head and brought his hand up to cup her cheek. It seemed like it had been so long since he touched her in such a way.

 

“I’m not angry,” he confirmed. “And I didn’t knock on your door on that ship because I didn’t think it was possible. I knocked on your door because I wanted to be with you. I knocked on your door because I love you.”

 

He kissed her forehead, lingering there for a moment before moving to her eyelids, her cheeks, and finally her lips. Dany’s hands returned to his belt, resuming the work she had started before, and unbuckled it. Jon made quick work of the fastening on her burgundy outer coat and pushed it off her shoulders so that she was standing before him in only the black silken dress she wore under it. His mouth traveled along her jaw to her neck, taking every advantage to lavish her with attention. Just as he reached the base of her throat he pulled away far enough to gaze at her as he hooked a finger under the strap at her shoulder and moved it aside.

 

Dany’s breath caught in the back of her throat when she saw the way he looked at her. Gone were any hints of trepidation that had been there since even before the night in the crypts. It was replaced once more by the look of love and adoration she had come to know and cherish from him. When he reached for her other strap she stopped his hand, taking it into her own and bringing it up to her lips.

 

“Wait,” she whispered and began to unlace his leather gambeson. She silently cursed it as she always did and felt almost triumphant when he finally shrugged out of it and pulled his linen shirt off after it.

 

She laid a hand over the scar that stretched across his heart before letting it drift lower to the ties on his trousers. Once she had them loosened, her fingers dipped below the band and wrapped around his hardening cock.  He kissed her again as she stroked him and slowly walked backwards until her legs met the bed.

 

Jon lifted her by the hips and set her down on the edge of the bed. He let his hands trail along her thighs and calves until he pulled each of her boots off and tossed them onto the floor. Dany wrapped her legs around Jon’s waist and brought him close to her again. Her arms twined around his neck as his fell instinctively around her. _The gods have fashioned us for love_ , she thought. _This is where we are meant to be_. She felt tears begin to sting her eyes again and closed them tightly in a vain attempt to keep them from falling.

 

“Dany?” Jon asked, brushing her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “What is it?”

 

“I keep waiting for you to stop, to pull away and leave me,” she replied, opening her eyes to see his pained expression looking back at her.

 

“Never,” he shook his head. “From this day, until my last day.”

 

She allowed herself to smile at that, allowed her heart to believe in his words because Jon had never lied to her, not once. Perhaps he had been the only person in her life who never had. Her forehead rested against his own, but she deliberately kept her lips from finding his as she reached down and tugged his trousers down. She used her feet to help push them down his legs. While he stepped out of them, Dany let the other strap of her dress fall off her shoulder and shimmied out of it, lying herself down on the bed. She held a hand out to him when he climbed onto the bed and stretched out next to her and he gladly took it, locking their fingers together as he began to pepper her with kisses yet again.

 

“Tell me what you want, _my queen_ ,” he whispered as he kissed the shell of her ear.

 

“Make love to me Jon,” she replied. “It’s been far too long.”

  


* * *

 

Jon traced a finger around Dany’s navel before lying his palm against her belly. It was not as flat as it had once been, a fact that Dany had pushed away and made excuses for.

 

“That tickles, you know,” she sighed and let her hand drift from his shoulder to the back of his neck. She had been fighting the sleep she knew she desperately needed. It had been days since she actually slept well, but as long as he was awake, she wanted to be as well.

 

“I could’ve lost you,” Jon said in a low, serious voice. “Both of you.”

 

“But you didn’t.”

 

“If you’d been able to tell me in the crypts I never would’ve let you fight. If anything had happened to you I couldn’t live with myself.”

 

“Sometimes I wish you’d never told me. I tried to forget and pretend the distance that it created didn’t exist. Tonight I was able to forget for awhile. And then I saw the way they looked at you.”

 

“The way who looked at me?” Jon asked, lifting his head from where it was nestled between her breasts.

 

“Tormund, Sansa, everyone. I know that look. People used to look at me that way. But not here. Never on this side of the sea.”

 

Dany pushed herself up and gathered the bed linens around her naked body.

 

“Tormund? Is so far in his cups he doesn’t know which way is up anymore. And Sansa doesn’t-”

 

“Know me?” Dany finished for him. “She doesn’t _want_ to know me, Jon. I don’t know what else I can give to her, what else I can be to her. When she finds out who you really are, she won’t hesitate to lead a brigade to cast me down and take what is mine.”

 

“She won’t.”

 

“She will.”

 

Dany knew that it was difficult for Jon to admit that Sansa was not the girl he grew up alongside. But she knew. She knew because she had endured so many of the same things Sansa did. It changed her. Dany was not the girl she had once been before she married Drogo. She would never be that girl again. That girl had died in the Red Waste.

 

“She won’t,” Jon said again as he took Dany’s hands into his own. “Not if you’re my wife.”

 

“Jon…”

 

“Daenerys, you’re already my queen. You’ll always be my queen, now be my wife. I’ve never wanted a throne. I still don’t want a throne, but I would rule by your side if you’ll have me.”

 

“There is nothing more I could want,” Dany replied and squeezed his hands. “But when people find out who you are, they will push you to make a more advantageous match. There are people who will not like what we are to one another.”

 

“Damn them to the Seven Hells. I don’t care.”

 

“Don’t you?” she asked. “You spent an entire day avoiding me. Perhaps you would’ve spent more if I hadn’t found you in the crypts that night. What’s changed.”

 

“Everything,” he admitted. “And nothing. Nothing has changed what I feel about you. Nothing will. I love you, Dany. But I’ve come close to losing you once. I won’t let that happen again. Do you think any other woman could take your place? Do you think I could stand aside while you marry another man?”

 

“I could never marry anyone else.”

 

“Nor could I. A woman once told me that the most prosperous years Westeros had ever seen were the ones when a Targaryen sat on the Iron Throne and a Stark was Warden of the North. Imagine if they ruled as one. Together.”

 

“Together.”

 

He bent his neck and kissed her hands.

 

“Is that a yes?”

 

“It is,” she smiled as tears welled up in her eyes. “Of course I’ll be your wife. Of course I want you by my side.”

 

“You came North for us. Now we will help you take back what is yours.”

 

“What is _ours_ ,” Dany corrected him.

 

“We will regroup.”

 

“We will rally more troops to our cause.”

 

“We will call on Yara Greyjoy and her fleet to help destroy her uncle.”

 

“We will make our plan of attack on Dragonstone.”

 

“We’ll attack on land, on sea, and in the air.”

 

“And we will rip her out root and stem.”

 

“With fire,” Jon said, his lips barely brushing her own.

 

“And ice,” Dany replied and sealed their vowed to one another with a kiss.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Feedback is greatly appreciated!


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